


Red Light, Yellow Light

by jessequicksters



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cabins, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Vacation, Domestic Fluff, Drinking Games, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Holidays, M/M, Secret Santa, Snowed In, Tony Loves Eggnogs Too Much, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: The Avengers book out a cabin for Christmas. They inevitably get snowed in. Steve and Tony are trying to get back together via means of not-so-subtle flirting after breaking up over a year ago, and there may be hope for these two lovers, still. (Ice-skating, messy drinking games, too much eggnog for Tony and a gift exchange that goes wrong might be the perfect formula for love.)





	Red Light, Yellow Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Impala_Chick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/gifts).



> this fic is for Impala_Chick/impalachick (tumblr) for the stevetonysecretsanta gift exchange! I tried to incorporate a few Holiday tropes in, hope you like it and merry christmas!
> 
> this is an AU where the Civil War didn't escalate the way it did in the MCU, but it was enough of an emotional fight between steve and tony where they decided to take a break after that.

There was a time in his life when Tony was a little more agile on his feet—a combination of age, muscle memory slipping away, and spending more time in a flying suit than anything else has seriously messed with his ice-skating skills, as he seems to be getting worse at it with each passing year.

Take, for instance, the fact that he’s already flat on his face after a few seconds on the ice. He can hear Clint’s barking laughter in the distance, and a half-hearted, ‘you okay, Stark?’ by Natasha whirring past to do a couple of spins.

He manages to get up on his knees and looks up to see Steve, grinding to a halt in front of him and extending an arm out from above. He’s looking at Tony with a fond smile, cheeks already flushed from taking one too many hits from the snowball fight they had earlier.

Right. Steve is going to be a problem for tonight.

“Takes a while to get into it again, I know,” Steve says, as Tony grips his gloved hand and feels himself being pulled up to his feet in one swift move.

“I used to be good at this, you know,” Tony says, steadying himself again. 

“Oh, I remember. When we went to the Rockefeller Centre a few years ago? You were skating laps around me.”

“I taught you how to skate!” Tony protests, only slightly jealous that Steve has seemed to progress into a natural while he’s losing his edge.

“And I’m so grateful,” Steve says, before taking off again, with not even a hint of remorse on his face.

What a tease, Tony thinks, and that callback to their first Christmas together? Steve knows how much that meant to Tony. Frankly, this was exactly the kind of thing that he was afraid of happening when they first decided to spend Christmas as a team. It’s been too long since they’ve all done this, especially considering all the shit that’s happened over the past few years.

They’re all skating around a lake in the middle of a snowy forest, with a giant boom box blasting Christmas songs and Tony’s nanotech operating as flying fireflies in the air. No explosions, no fights, no one trying to kill each other—maybe the bar’s been dropped to the ground but in Tony’s eyes, this feels like a win.

He manages to get a good rhythm going on the ice until he bumps into Steve from behind.

“Shit, sorry—I went too fast and I forgot how to, uh, stop.” 

Steve laughs, tender and warm, “That’s okay, Tony. I can take a hit.”

“Can you, huh.” Tony looks him up and down, gesturing at his entire body. “Because, you know, I would never have guessed.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but Tony can see the blush creeping up. “I’m not going to let you bait me.”

“Into what?” Tony looks at him incredulously, but Steve’s already shaking his head.

“I’m going to go over there now, where people don’t cause trouble.”

“I’ll race you,” Tony says. “First one to Bruce gets to decide how much alcohol goes into the eggnog.”

“You’re on, old man.”

There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes that isn’t from the lights over their heads. Tony knows that he has no one to blame but himself for what happens next, but shit, old habits die hard and maybe, just maybe he wants to be selfish for one night. Screw acting in everyone’s best interests. He’s chasing the coveted green light tonight.

Now, to actually figure out if that light is actually turning green or if it’s a glitch in the system.

 

-

 

“Are you flirting with Tony again?” Natasha asks as they’re packing up their skates and lacing their boots back on. 

“Bold assumption, Romanoff,” Steve says, weakly. 

He can practically see her smiling. “More like an observation. What’s the deal, you two have been acting weird lately. You sleeping together again?”

Steve lets out a laugh. “If only. We haven’t—nothing’s happened since last year when we broke it off for good.”

The whole Accords situation had gotten too messy and even though no one got hurt on either side, it was Steve and Tony who had taken the biggest hits, emotionally, at least. They braced the impact for the rest of the team, who managed to get over it relatively quickly and chalked it up to a professional disagreement. With him and Tony, though, nothing ever stayed purely professional.

“Looks like you two are getting along fine now,” Natasha remarks.

“Yeah, but. Do you think I should pump the brakes? I don’t think either of us understood what we were getting ourselves into that first time around. Maybe I should be a little more careful.” He probably should stop thinking out loud.

Natasha gives him a look. “You didn’t seem too conflicted when you let him barrel you into the snow. He was literally on top of you, Steve.”

Before Steve manages a reply, Bruce starts yelling at everyone to start walking back to the cabin. Apparently, a snowstorm is coming along and it looks like a big one. Clint grabs the boom box and starts blasting ‘Let it Snow’ on full volume, to which Tony starts chastising him for.

They make brief eye contact as they start walking back to the cabin. Tony looks down immediately, but Steve can’t help but notice the tiny smile on his face. It’s settled then. Tonight. He’s going to remedy their aching pains by the end of the night.

 

-

 

“Do you know why the weather’s acting up?” Tony asks as they’re trudging through the thick pile of snow. “I swear the forecast was good all week.”

“It’s the weather, Tony. Sometimes, you just can’t predict it.” 

“Yeah, but something this abrupt, you don’t think there’s trouble, do you—”

Steve freezes. Tony stops and waits for a response.

“Steve?”

“If anything happens, we’ll handle it. I think you’re just looking for trouble.”

“Me?” Tony throws his hands up, laughing. “As if I would want to sabotage our first Avengers Christmas in like, five years. No, it’s not like we were on the brink of trying to kill each other not too long ago.” 

Steve just raises his eyebrows in mock entertainment. “So this is what this is about. You want us to be wiped away by an avalanche, for penance.” 

“Just a warning from the weather gods, it’s probably about the crimes we’ve committed against each other.”

“Far too many to list.”

“One offense still remains far more severe than all the others, though." 

“Which is?” Steve feels his heartbeat picking up ever so slightly, as the bite of the wind coincides with the vague rumblings of thunder in the background.

Tony pokes him right in his chest, where his heart is. “I’ll let you figure out what that one is.”

This would be the perfect time to throw a snowball at someone’s face, Steve thinks. Restraint is a damning thing sometimes.

 

-

 

It isn’t exactly clear why Thor shows up at the front step of their cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, but no one’s exactly mad about it. He starts greeting everyone the way he usually does, by crushing them all in his big arms—all at once. 

“It’s good to see you!” Bruce says, and that earns him an extra hug from Thor, apparently. “You actually came! I didn’t think you would.”

“You invited Point Break?” Tony asks.

“Oh, yes. We’ve bonded a great deal after the events of Ragnarok left Asgard crumbling down. Of course, there was also the matter of us being sold as slaves to an intergalactic fight club where I nearly killed our green friend, here.” He pats Bruce on the shoulder, who makes a sour face. 

“You mean when I nearly killed _you_.” 

“Wait, what happened to Asgard?” Clint asks.

“Did you say intergalactic fight club?” Steve squirms.

“Who sold you as slaves?” Natasha raises an eyebrow.

Tony interrupts them all. “I think this is the perfect time for a story. Bruce, you’ve been keeping these space adventures a secret for long enough. Grab your wine and eggnog, folks, we’re going to sit by the fire and play some form of drinking game in relation to this… whatever this story’s going to be.” 

“Perfect, and I shall provide the liquor for whoever among us might need a stronger kick to their drink,” Thor says, winking at Steve. Perfect, now this is going to be a party.

 

-

 

It’s surprising, really, the amount of times they’ve been drinking to the rule: ‘whenever the Grandmaster says or does something that could possibly be interpreted as a sexual innuendo to Loki’, and it’s even further confirmation of the fact that Steve doesn’t want to go anywhere near space. 

“Clint, you might wanna stop adding rules to this game. It’s not going to end well, buddy,” Bruce says, chuckling nervously. Thor’s enjoying this game far too much. Being the one telling the story, the guy just ends up drinking every time everyone else does and then some. Steve’s only glad to know that the Asgardians have found a new planet to live on. There was something rather gloomy about the fact that everyone in this cabin didn’t exactly have anywhere else to be this Christmas.

“I think it’s time for a water break,” Tony says, getting up from the floor.

Steve takes this as a prime opportunity to steal some alone time with him, maybe gauge where they’re at. By the time he gets to the kitchen, he sees Tony trying to pull his Christmas jumper off but somehow, failing spectacularly. He races over to help and Tony jumps a little at the sudden contact. 

“Jesus, give a guy some warning will you before you start—feeling me up,” the last few words are muffled underneath the ball of wool over his head.

“Sorry!” Steve squeaks. “I was just trying to—”

“Strangle me?”

“Of course not!”

“If you actually manage to get this off, I may consider forgiving you. Come on, Steve, put those super-soldier arms to good use.”

Steve manages to yank it off Tony’s head, as the other man breathes a sigh of relief. His face is bright red and Steve can’t tell how much of it is the alcohol and how much of it is the suffocation.

“For a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, this place is surprisingly well insulated,” Tony says after a beat of silence. He’s just leaning against the kitchen counter and Steve is just standing there, like an idiot, scrambling his brain to figure out what his next move will be.

“It is,” is the only thing Steve manages. 

“Uh-uh. Thanks for the insight. Are you tipsy, Cap?”

“No, ‘m good. What makes you think that?”

“You look like a red hot tomato.” 

“Tomatoes aren’t hot.”

“I know. I couldn’t decide between two metaphors so they kind of just got….” He makes explosion gestures, nearly dropping the mug in his hand. 

It’s ridiculous, to feel so much love for someone in a moment as silly as this, but to think that this time last year they weren’t even on speaking terms. It was the worst Christmas of his life since he’d first woken up from the ice. And Steve knows that it was probably his fault. He was stubborn enough to think that the only way that they could ever get over each other was to exile themselves to a period of no-contact with only an emergency flip phone which, fair enough, Tony didn’t take too well towards.

They were a disaster when they had to go back on the field together again. That took a little time, practice and training to return to being the well-oiled machine they once used to be. But the real mistake was ever thinking that they’d actually ever get over the other in the first place.

He hears Thor calling them back into the living room for the commencing of the game, so he leans forward to grab the wine bottle from beside Tony. Tony seems to have the exact same idea and his hand ends up firmly clasping over Steve’s around the neck of the bottle.

“Um,” Steve starts.

Tony pulls away almost immediately. “Sorry, go for it.”

“No, it’s fine, you can—”

“I insist, Cap. I know you have a soft spot for reds. I’ll whip up more of the eggnog.” Tony turns around to giant bowl of eggnog in the mixer and tips it ever so slightly to fill up his mug.

He raises it in front of Steve. “I want to enjoy this last mug before things start to escalate which, I should probably warn you—it will. Also, you should probably watch how much of Thor’s Asgardian liquor you’re having. I distinctly remember the last time you had it was the night that you ended up painting my entire body red and gold.”

Tony flashes a chipper smile and bounces away. Oh, hell. It dawns on him then that Tony’s going to do his best to make this anything but easy for him.

 

-

 

Tony knew he shouldn’t have spoken too soon. Just minutes after they tried to continue Thor’s drinking game, the power zapped out. And now there’s zero electricity. Nada. Tony didn’t exactly bring his full set of tech with him on the trip, only the nanotech fireflies that gives them a little bit of light in the room but not much heat. The storm outside is picking up as they hear the winds rattling against the trees and wooden cabin. Tony’s thrown his jumper back on, after all that effort in trying to take it off, and everyone’s wrapped up in scarves for a little extra heat.

They’re all snuggled by the fireplace and after a couple of minutes deciding what game to play next, they settle on one of Clint’s suggestions: back-to-back. 

“I’ve never actually played this before,” Steve says.

“Easy. Everybody grab their drinks, we pick two people to stand, or sit, back-to-back, we ask them questions about who’s more likely to do something or any question that requires them to pick one or the other, and they can either point to the other or drink if they think that’s them,” Natasha explains.

“Seems simple enough,” Bruce says.

“If they agree on their answers, we all drink. If they disagree, then they drink again,” Clint goes on.

“Sounds fabulous. As you all know, you’re all too predictable and I know everybody far too well.” Tony rubs his hands together, mostly because they’re almost turning blue. 

“All right, Stark, you start. Anyone wanna do this round with our resident mom?” Clint says as Tony crawls over to the front of the semi-circle, sitting with his legs out in a ninety-degree angle in front of him. 

“I nominate Steve,” Natasha says, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

Thor starts booming with laughter. “Stirring the cauldron, I see. I second Natasha’s suggestion!”

“Thanks, Your Highness.” Natasha gives him a high-five, as Bruce dies of the incoming secondhand embarrassment and Clint gives Tony a wicked glare.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Steve says, moving up to the front as everyone starts cheering. Tony feels Steve’s back pressed up against his, warm and dense, and ah, shit. It sends tiny shivers up his spine, but he’s pretty sure Steve wouldn’t notice it with all the layers that the two of them are wearing.

They haven’t been this physically close in a while, not until tonight at least. When they finally, properly, mended things between them (and no, that phase of illicit hate-sex during the early stages of their break-up wasn’t exactly the healthiest of moments, and he isn’t proud of it) things were normal again. They did what friends did. They hung out with other friends, went on missions to save the world and never overstepped any boundaries.

Tony can’t exactly remember when the tipping point was when they started this dance around each other again, but it is fairly recent and impossible to ignore or brush away.

“First question!” Clint says. “Who’s the louder sex partner?”

Everyone starts coughing and suddenly pinecones are being thrown at Clint.

“Go easy on them,” Natasha says, with a hint of genuine pity in her voice.

“What? I thought this was your plan.”

“Subtlety works wonders, Barton.” 

“Although most of the time, it is best to strike with maximum force,” Thor exclaims. They briefly get distracted in an argument, while Tony and Steve turn over their shoulders to quietly discuss among themselves.

“I’ll tell the truth if you do,” Tony says.

“It’s fair game. We knew this is where we’d end up once we started playing party games.”

“Always is.” 

“Then I guess I’ll drink,” Steve says, taking a sip from his wine as Tony points at him with a thumb.

“Unsurprising,” Natasha says before the rest of them drink. Tony can’t look behind him, but he knows that Steve is probably shooting her a glare right this very moment. 

“Which one of you two is the more romantic partner?” Thor asks.

“You do know that they’re not together anymore, right?” Bruce tells him, or maybe to the entire room, as perhaps the only sane one there.

“Nonsense!” Thor replies. “You’ve always enjoyed pranking me whenever I come back to Earth. You can’t fool me this time.”

Bruce just shakes his head and attempts to give Tony an apologetic look, to which Tony just brushes off, blowing him a kiss in return.

“Come on guys, drink or point,” Clint says.

Tony ends up pointing at Steve, which results in a very curious ‘oooh’ from the crowd. He turns around to find that Steve’s pointing at him, instead.

“Really?” Tony says. “We started going out because you literally saved me from drowning in the Hudson, and you kissed me when you saw that there were fireworks going off in the background. It was like a bad Hallmark movie on steroids.”

“You make all the romantic speeches!”

“Like when I curse every two words and go off tangent whenever I try to even remotely talk about my feelings? Yeah, right.” 

“It’s sweet, Tony. I think you’re very good at making your feelings known, even when it’s not with the words you think you should be using.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room when they realize that everyone’s listening. 

Tony hears Bruce sighing and just going, “Oh, fuck it. They’re going to end up back together anyway. Who started developing feelings for the other—again—first?”

“Oh, shit, Bruce,” Clint says, suddenly solemn. “Don’t you think you’ve gone a little too far there?” 

“Yeah, Bruce. That’s a little invasive, don’t you think?” Natasha presses on. She and Clint exchange a sly glance that goes unnoticed by Bruce.

Thor seems to catch on and starts joining in the fun. “Where have your manners gone, Banner? It seems like you’ve forgotten them in the Devil’s Anus!”

“The what—”

“Who’s—”

Bruce takes off his glasses and drops his face in his hands. “Is that not the point of what we’re doing? Aw, you guys, I’m sorry. Tony, Steve, you don’t have to answer that.” 

“Bruce has clearly lost it,” Tony whispers to Steve over his shoulder, as everyone keeps egging on Bruce.

“I counted four glasses of wine, we should probably start filling his glass with water from now on to avoid any, uh, incidents,” Steve says.

“Okay, so for them not to drink, we’d have to disagree. Either both of us point at each other or both of us drink.” Strategizing with Steve is literally one of Tony’s favorite things on the planet—besides, well, doing a bunch of other things with Steve, and he’s slightly terrified at how easily his brain is admitting this right now when it seemed impossible a mere few months ago.

“I say we both point at each other under the illusion of self-preservation,” Steve says. “That way we can still pretend that we’re definitely not planning anything for tonight.”

“I agree—wait, pretend?” Tony’s head is still half-turned over his shoulder, but his eyes actually meet Steve’s now. His blue eyes are just radiating with warmth in front of the fireplace. The corners of his eyes start to crinkle as his wine-stained lips quirk up into a tiny smile.

“You don’t think I haven’t been noticing the way you’ve been flirting with me all night,” Steve says softly, voice low. “I know you, Tony.”

Well, damn. To be honest, Tony hasn’t exactly thought about where to take things once they reached this point. He didn’t exactly expect they’d get this far this quickly.

“Well, you haven’t exactly been subtle yourself, _Captain Get In My Pants_ ,” Tony finally responds. He expects Steve to frown at the crude joke or the semi-aggressive jab, but the smile doesn’t leave him.

“Smooth, Tony. I would never pull rank to orchestrate sexual relations. That would be illegal. And bad.” 

“Not if I asked for it.”

“Are you?”

“Okay! Sorry for the delay—we’ve just been consoling Bruce,” Clint says as Tony and Steve are suddenly hyper-aware that the attention in the room has been turned back towards them. “Anyway. What was it again? Oh yeah, the feelings question. Drink or point.”

They both have their backs turned against one another now, and suddenly the room feels very, very, hot. Tony thinks about their plan, to point at each other and just brush it all off, but something in him is telling him to do the very opposite. Because thinking back, like way, way back—to when they weren’t even speaking to each other this time last year, all he remembers is wanting nothing else but to have Steve by his side while he spent Christmas and New Years on a weeklong mission with Rhodey somewhere in Europe. It wasn’t even anything urgent or serious, looking back now, but he couldn’t handle being home without the one person who made it one.

Basically, he’s never fucking gotten over Steve in the first place. And that deserves one hell of a drink.

“Well, well, well,” Thor says. “Both your hearts have spoken.”

When Tony finishes his glass, he turns around to notice that Steve drank his glass empty, too. They both turn to fully face each other now, as Steve fiddles with the dry wine glass in his hand. 

“What happened to self-preservation?” Tony asks.

“Never was that important in the grand scheme of things. May I—?” Steve replies, reaching out to brush away the remains of eggnog on Tony’s mustache. He leans in ever so slightly, and Tony feels warm hand cupping his jaw, so he closes his eyes and feels him on his lips. It’s all Steve.

The kiss is short and chaste, but Tony still holds true to the fact that he’s never felt softer lips in his life, and one that completely devours him in a way that’s agonizingly gentle. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Steve gradually pulling away, lips pressed together apprehensively.

“If you’re going to kiss me at a Christmas party in front of all of our friends, might as well stick it in there, darling,” Tony finally says.

Steve laughs in relief as he tips his head down, blonde hair falling over his face. He brushes it away with his fingers and smiles at Tony, endearing and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

He hears Clint groaning. “Shit, my room’s right next to you two’s. How did we all collectively forget what happens when these two are together? Noise-wise?”

“You started this, Barton,” Natasha says, giving Tony and Steve a satisfied nod.

“You can sleep in my chambers with Banner. We can all huddle for warmth and recite tales of our adventures once more,” Thor beams, and Clint opens his mouth to protest, before realizing that that may actually be the better option.

Suddenly, the lights zap back on and various appliances start turning back on, including the lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Everyone does a little cheer and a dance when they stand up.

“Hey, we forgot to put a star up there,” Natasha points out.

“Did we?” Tony says as everyone else looks up at it.

Natasha and Clint race to grab a star of their choice from the decoration box. Tony feels a thud on his shoulder as Clint is climbing on top of him to get to the top of the tree, and he looks up to see that Natasha has climbed on a much stronger, much more well-balanced Steve—and that’s how Tony and Steve ended up facilitating a game of chicken for two super spies on their shoulders. Of course, none of them stood a chance once Thor lifts up Bruce and ends up knocking everyone down by basically using him as a human-sized baseball bat. Bruce places a rather pretty Hulk-angel star on top of the tree, and no one complains.

Tony reaches out for Steve’s hand as they’re both lying on the floor with their backs on the ground. He feels Steve fingers carefully sliding in between his, and he turns to see his warm face smiling back at him.

 

-

 

Steve takes a deep breath, adjusting the weight of Tony on top of him in bed. It’s been so long since he’s held him like this, and Steve would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t nervous. He closes his eyes as he feels Tony’s lips on his again, as his hands wander under his belly to push up the sweater he’s wearing. Tony just feels warm all over—his skin, his lips, his hands, drifting across Steve’s face, _god_ , he could just stay like this forever.

As their lips part, Tony takes off his sweater, tugging on Steve’s until he pulls it off himself. Tony leans into his face, brown eyes sharp as he gazes into his.

“You’re thinking too much,” Tony hums, brushing his nose against Steve’s cheek as he places soft kisses down his face and neck.

Steve chuckles nervously. “Am I?”

“Mmhmm.” Tony’s still sucking on Steve’s neck, baritone rumbling. He slows down when Steve fails to relax. “Unless… you’d feel better sharing your thoughts.”

“No—I mean, yes.”

Tony readjusts himself on top, rolling off from Steve and propping himself up on his elbow on the side. “What’s on your mind, Steve?”

Steve sighs. Unfortunately, this is one of those things that would probably turn out better with Tony’s input, so there really is no way out of it.

“What if this isn’t a good idea?” Steve asks, quiet. 

“Says which part of your brain?” 

“Says the part of my—my everything, that’s been in love with you, still, for god knows how long. I can’t help it, Tony, and I…” Steve laughs then, hopelessly. “I don’t exactly have the best track record of making sensible decisions when I’m with you.”

“This is perfectly sensible,” Tony says, cupping his face in both hands and leaning forward for another kiss. Steve gives in, and it dawns on him that Tony isn’t in a talking mood at the moment, which can only mean one thing: that he’s just as scared of this as he is.

 

-

 

Making love with Steve feels like second nature at this point. Tony remembers every little thing about him, and after being apart for so long, it’s a little overwhelming to feel it all again in one big wave. His hands, gripping him so tight it’s bound to leave marks in the morning, his mouth, strong and reckless when he gets excited—he _bites,_ believe it or not—and just the sound of him when he finishes inside Tony, moaning like he’s forgotten how thin the walls are here, or just doesn’t care. He says Tony’s name over and over again like it’s the last thing ever leaving his lips, and Tony loves it.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Tony coos, smoothing his hands across his body and chest, heaving up and down. He plants a trail of kisses all the way up back to his face, and he can tell that Steve hasn’t even had nearly enough. 

He shuffles himself down between Tony’s legs, wet tongue against him, Tony can’t help but let out a muffled groan. Steve makes a satisfied noise in response, slamming another hand against Tony’s ass as he takes in his entire length inside his mouth. 

 _Oh,_ he’s so done for. He doesn’t think he can live the rest of his life without Steve, without _this_ , the two of them so hopelessly tangled around each other like LED lights around a Christmas tree. They’ve made their fair share of mistakes, yes, but who hasn’t? And besides, the worst part of their break up wasn’t even the stupid fights or petty arguments that spiraled into bigger things, no. Their worst transgression was walking away from it all.

And sure, Steve may have technically walked out the door first, but Tony had checked out emotionally long before, so, maybe he’s also due for an apology soon.

After a few minutes of possibly the most intense blowjob Tony has had in forever-since-the-last-time-with-Steve, he finishes in Steve’s mouth, leaving him hot and flustered as he relaxes his head back into the pillow. His hands are still in Steve’s hair, as Steve gently kisses his inner thigh.

“You do that so well, every fucking time,” Tony says breathlessly.

“Well, what kind of partner would I be if I couldn’t satisfy you,” Steve replies, cheek pressed against Tony’s stomach as he traces circles over the head of his cock. He looks up at Tony, offering a sweet smile, and Tony wants to smack himself on the forehead for ever letting this go.

  

-

 

It’s freezing cold when Steve wakes up. He hovers a hand over the heater by the bed and realizes that they’re turned off. By the sound of it, the storm seems to have intensified overnight. He hears footsteps in the living room and wonders what time it is. No signs of sunlight by the window. He sits up slowly, trying not to wake Tony, curled up with most of the sheets bunched up over him. That would explain the cold, too.

Steve gets up and walks towards the door before he hears a muffled protest coming from the bed.

“Where you goin’,” Tony asks, eyes still closed. Steve walks back towards him and pets him on the head. 

“Off to check on the heater, do you want me to bring you a hot drink?”

“Eggnog,” Tony says, which earns him a chuckle in response.

“I’m not feeding you eggnog in the morning,” Steve says, rubbing his eyes open. “I don’t actually know how early it is. I think the others might be awake, though.” 

“Coffee, then,” Tony protests. “And a kiss.” 

“Those I can do.” Steve kisses him on the nose as Tony smiles in contentment. He then rolls back into his cocoon as Steve heads to the living room where the noise seems to have gotten increasingly louder. 

“What’s going on?” 

Steve walks in to find Clint and Natasha with flour all over their faces in the kitchen, with light Christmas jazz playing from the speaker. They seem to be baking… something, although it’s hard to tell from the bowls of vague mixtures.

“Steve! Could you give us a hand, we’re trying to make some mince pies for breakfast,” Clint says, fumbling with the trays.

“What time is it?” Steve asks.

“It’s 5:30,” Natasha replies.

“Why are you awake?”

“We were just in Moscow yesterday morning. Jetlag still bites,” she shrugs, moving to the oven to set the timer for pre-heating. “What are you doing up?”

“It was cold,” Steve blinks, realizing that the both of them are in full Christmas garb, with elf hats to match.

“Bruce and Thor are trying to fix the radiator downstairs,” Clint says. “They’ve been banging around in there for half an hour, any longer and they’ll probably break the heating altogether.”

Steve shakes his head and sighs. “I can wake Tony if it helps.” 

“Sleeping beauty isn’t freezing?” Natasha asks as she licks the batter off the wooden spoon before telling Clint to add more brandy in the mixture.

“He stole all the sheets.”

“Ha!” Clint laughs, vigorously mixing the batter as the pots and pans start clanging around, body tumbling into everything on the counter. “Good to know you two are settling back into old habits. I’m happy for you guys, really.” 

“I second that,” Natasha points at him with the spoon.

“Alright, for the love of god, can an old man get some sleep around here or do I have to feed you all to the wolves?” Tony’s voice cuts in, barely awake, and perhaps a little (understandably) cranky, as he pulls on a sweater. Steve wraps his arms around him and kisses him on the cheek.

“Sorry we woke you. They’re making breakfast and Thor and Bruce are fixing the heater downstairs. I’ll make you that coffee.”

“Thank you,” Tony says, purring at Steve’s touch. “I’ll make my way down. Can we open presents after this? You’re all clearly not getting back into bed anytime soon.”

“You want us to make you eggnog for breakfast, don’t you,” Clint says.

“I actually do.” 

 

-

 

“Ow, my stomach doesn’t feel great,” Tony says, clutching his abdomen as he rolls over and lies on Steve’s lap as they’re all sat around the tree.

“You’ve had like, 12 glasses of eggnog in the past 12 hours, are you surprised?” Steve says.

“That’s cruel. I thought you were going to be my kindhearted nurse who takes care of me when I’m not feeling myself.”

“We’re not going to indulge your kinks Tony, at least not right now.” Natasha smiles as she tosses a gift over towards him. Thankfully Steve’s reflexes are quick enough to catch it or it would’ve done straight to his head. “Open up. This might cheer you up.”

Tony unwraps the gift, tearing it with several satisfying rips. Steve is staring at it as if it’s a bomb or something, but Tony's too on task to interrogate that right now. It’s wide and thin, and Tony can’t think of a lot of things with those same dimensions. His suspicions are confirmed when he pulls it out of its cause.

“Is this what I think this is?” Tony pulls out the record and flips it in his hands.

“1971 live recording of the Russian Swan Lake opera. One time show in Carnegie Hall. I know you told me your mother took you there and no other performance has sounded the same.”

“How’d you get it? I thought they didn’t even record the show.”

“They didn’t—at least, not officially.” Natasha smiles as Tony rolls back up on his knees and hugs her.

“This is wonderful, Nat. Thank you,” Tony says. “Well, with Bruce’s gift and yours, the bar has been set high. Who’s next?” 

“Um, I think there’s been a mistake in the name draw,” Steve speaks up. “You may want to check under the tree for another gift, Tony.”

Everyone looks at Clint, who had organized the Secret Santa and drops a very quiet ‘oh shit’ under his breath. Tony crawls under the tree and lo and behold, there is another gift addressed to his name in someone’s very familiar handwriting.

“Found it,” Tony cheers, opening it quickly. It’s a photo frame, but when Tony takes one look at the contents of the picture it becomes clear that it isn’t a photo at all, rather a child’s drawing. Of Captain America and Iron Man, complete with the caption: _~~Earth’s~~ My Best Heroes._

There’s also a vague scrawl of a name in the corner of the frame and it spells the name, ‘Allison’. Tony looks up at Steve, who’s looking at him with doting eyes. 

“This girl sent it to me last Christmas. Allison. She’s a third-grader from Missouri. She even wrote this long letter about how she wanted to be a superhero one day and I thought it was the sweetest thing,” Steve lets out a chuckle. “Her Christmas wish was for Iron Man and Captain America to stop fighting and to love each other again. We weren’t exactly in the best place back then, and I figured you didn’t want me pitching up on your doorstep with a gift after everything but… I held on to it.”

Tony blinks. “I don’t know what to say.”

He thinks about last Christmas, when he was hurt and alone, thinking that Steve wanted nothing to do with him. He wants to laugh, because of how ridiculous it all seems in retrospect. Funny how time brings all sorts of wonderful surprises. Twice now, Steve has been that glitch in time that comes out of nowhere and smacks him across the face with love. 

“I know that it’s not something I made myself—I mean, I could’ve redrawn it, but, I think it’s perfect already and I wanted to share it with you.”

“It is. Stupidly perfect,” Tony says, launching himself at Steve as a few audible ‘aww’s starts circling around the room. “We should fly out to her and say hi. When this whole snowstorm blows over, you and me, we’re heading out to Missouri to play Superhero Santa.”

Steve smiles, arms reaching underneath Tony’s shoulders to hug his back as he’s sitting on his lap. “I’m so happy you’re here.” 

They kiss, as Steve brings a warm hand to cup Tony’s jawline, fingers pressed into his relaxed neck. Steve’s lips are sweet, like candy and cinnamon, and there’s a bit of a kick to it as he bites onto Tony’s bottom lip.

“Please, not in front of the children!” Clint yells.

Steve groans while Tony just waves him off. It’s not every day that he gets to kiss Steve in front of a Christmas tree, loaded up on sugar and spice and everything nice with that green light shining down on them. Here’s to hoping for many, many more of these moments to come.


End file.
